Shattered Glass
by Moon-kun
Summary: As delicate glass is played with by intrusive hands, unaware of its fragility, so wedding vows fall apart. Can Sakura and Syaoran, child in hand, be able to pick up the painful pieces?


**Disclaimer: **I do not claim any Card Captor Sakura characters mentioned in this fiction or in any other as my property. Use of these characters is for entertainment purposes only. I make no money from this story and do not intend to commit copyright infringement.

**A/N: **And thus I present to you the _remake _of **Family Portrait**! I have my fingers crossed, believing that this will turn out better. Indeed, it has a lot more twists and turns, and is, hopefully, more angsty. Read on, and don't forget to leave a review!

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**Shattered Glass  
**By: Ivory Petals

As delicate glass is played with by intrusive hands, unaware of its fragility, so wedding vows fall apart, shattered pieces scattered and prickled with painful thoughts.  
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**I: The Product of Nonexistence (Li Sakura)**

"_I will love you forever and ever; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; 'til death do us part."_

Memories of my wonderful wedding with Syaoran continuously echoed in my mind. The many words that have been uttered during that most splendid event remained ever so vivid, in my heart and in my head. And now, to my utmost joy, I beheld the fruit of my labor with Syaoran, dear—a beautiful baby girl, with pale cheeks, sweet chocolate eyes, and naturally smooth skin. She was the product of our love, ever shining in her innocence. Even as she wailed, I felt as if she was giving me due gratitude and declared a certain love for me, odd as that might have sounded to any childless person.

It was in an immediate moment that my life became dedicated to her, and I told myself that she shall always be the first in my agenda. I promised that I would do well in my work to earn her a good education, a good life. That promise shall always be kept, and I was truly willing to take drastic measures to prove it. I knew that I would be with her, taking care of her even when my terms with my husband are bad—although I never once thought that it would be, for I always believed that we were soul mates, never to sin against each other. That was how strong my love was for her, knowing that, indeed, she was mine, my outgrowth. Syaoran would then only come in second place, of which later in my life was rendered harmful to a healthy family relationship.

I held the little angel in my arms, swelling with unmatched pride even as I lay helplessly on the hospital bed. It was then that Syaoran asked me a very important question, as other people believed it predicted personalities and determined lives. "What should we name her, Sakura?" Gently and lovingly, he stroked my honey brown hair, and I let out a shy giggle.

I, in my turn, believed that certain superstition. I looked contemplatively at the whitewashed ceiling before a name then popped in my mind—the name of ultimate blessing. "Megumi, because she is a grace from God," came my proposal, a cheery smile grazing my features.

Megumi, I supposed, spoke of talent, grace, intelligence, and an ever pure beauty, that of which always bedazzled me. An angel from heaven, somehow I imagined her having silver wings at her back, streaked with shimmering gold. I was zealous, indeed, to spend my life with her. I felt as if I could even see a secret smile behind her wrinkled, crying face.

"Megumi it is, then." Syaoran soon laid a chaste peck on my forehead, followed by a nod, which I reckoned was a sign of approval. I smiled and returned him his kiss, this time on his moist and lovely lips.

My marriage, I trusted before, was perfect and could only go uphill. Little did I know that it was only the beginning, and that most marriages—of which ours wasn't an exception—turn to a silent ruin that is caused by a slowly waning love—a love turned bland—shared by husband and wife.

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In the beginning, I had already begun to sense that Megumi-chan shared a closer relationship with her papa. It was he who taught her how to speak her first "word": dada. It was he who fed her her very first vegetable—green peas—and her very first root crop—potatoes that were mashed to a baby-friendly state. And it was also Syaoran who gave her her very first trim, resulting in some very uneven hazel hair. Despite the sadness that stirred deep in my heart, I could not suppress a laugh for that. Her bangs, when not shoved to the side of her face, looked obviously jagged—and it wasn't for style. The middle portion hung menacingly up to the bridge of her cute nose, and she would typically cross-eye and attempt to blow the curly nuisance out of her way, to no avail. At least, that was what Syaoran would tell me.

Admittedly, the reason for this unusual closeness was because I was hardly there to be with her, although I certainly wished I could. It was a fact that I was a General Manager and Syaoran only managed Procurement. This topic of inferiority often resulted to arguments, and I would always retort, saying that he was a lazy man and that I worked more. I remember once (and thus a slightly lengthy tale commences):

I was watching my favorite soap opera that night, annoyed out of my wits at the five-minute commercial break that disturbed the show every ten. I supposed that an actual thirty-minute program was actually only about twenty minutes uncut. That, however, proved to be the least of my worries.

Syaoran approached me nonchalantly, choosing to sit on the arm of the sofa nearest me. The awkward silence that occupied the next minute started to drown me in an unspeakable uneasiness, and, somehow, guilt. I knew I had missed something important, but that of which, I myself could not tell. It was like I lived in a different world.

Yet, somehow, he had lessened my burden of speaking up by being the first to initiate a conversation. "Hey, hon', you know…it's Meggie-chan's first week in school, and she says bullies take her food. That would explain why she lost weight, don't you think?" His voice was deep, handsome, reminding me of his chocolate hair, although I believed that I was about to be lectured of my absences or something of the sort.

I had actually begun to notice the outstanding frailty of my child, Li Megumi. She was a scrawny little kid, with insipid skin, and once or twice her dad would complain to me about her having sprains. It would suffice to say that I do not really pay much attention to it, and that, in my own faulty turn, makes me feel a sense of responsibility whenever an ailment happens to strike her, after never nurturing her that much in my life. Being barely there for her needs, we had begun to rely on powdered milk, not the milk of my unconscious making. I often wondered if my dearie made the mixture too hot or too powdery up to a bad state.

"Ah, so that's why she's weak lately. The poor child," came my pathetic reply after what seemed like ages of thought. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and even when I looked away to save myself from feeling even more shame, the aura of regret never ceased. I swallowed a lump in my throat and tried to concentrate my eyes on the TV screen, hoping to make myself appear too busy for any distressing talk. "Ah…uhmm…anything else, Syaoran-kun?"

"I was wondering if you could talk to her homeroom teacher." He stated almost immediately.

I sank deeper in my spot, hoping the date he would suggest would coincide with a business meeting of mine, just so that I could skip it. Heck, I didn't even know who Megumi's homeroom teacher was! "When?" I finally found the courage to ask.

"The earlier, the better. We can't let this go out of hand, Sakura." He said, his tone shimmering with true concern. It was almost like a slap in the face for a person like me, a person who almost didn't seem to care.

In that moment, I told myself that if I didn't say "yes," I would hate myself—and so would Syaoran—for until god-knows-when. And so, even with a bit of reluctance, I consented, forcing a smile. "I'll try tomorrow."

"That's great!" He exclaimed, locking me in a warm and hearty embrace. "I was only so worried about Megumi…thank God this'll be solved. I need to travel to Osaka this week, you see, and I'll be busy." He grinned at me and seemed so thankful. Syaoran kissed me lightly on the lips, and in that moment, I could really feel his worry disappearing and his relief entering.

I nodded to show my approval and assurance, though I couldn't help but feel as if the fake smile that played on my lips showed obvious signs of sadness and doubt.

I tried to keep my promise. Tomorrow. That was it.

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My tomorrow didn't come the day after. Simply stated, I had forgotten. I woke up early dreading another day of tedious work of signing papers and giving lectures, yet the promise I had given my husband never crossed my mind, even as I observed his innocent figure that lay on the bed in deep slumber, stroking his disheveled hair.

I left home for work, never even wondering the trouble I would cause Syaoran as he would frantically think of ways to bring little Megumi to school without jeopardizing his important business schedule. My mind was occupied by something else, like the deal with our company's client, whether I should fire this woman with a horrific performance, or things of the sort. Business. Purely business-oriented thoughts occupied my once empty head as I spent my entire day.

I also came home that day feeling clueless as to the reason of Syaoran's closely-knit eyebrows and the appearance of his frighteningly stern face. His arms were crossed and his eyes glared at me intensely. It was then that I saw tiny Megumi, sitting on the couch with the most heartbreaking frown. She had a bandage on the corner of her forehead.

"Tadaima (I'm home), Syaoran….Meggie-chan, what happened to your forehead?" I inquired, oblivious to the strict and uneasy air encircling the room.

Syaoran gave me the answer before Megumi could even open her sweet mouth. It was brief, crisp, firm, and hard…almost scary, like I wanted to run away. "Bullies, Sakura. Bullies."

Finally, it all came running back to me, like a fast bullet aiming at my temple. I felt so stupid realizing my blunder—and so responsible as well, seeing my little daughter near tears and with bruises. I covered my mouth in surprise, though my hand came by in the slowest of movements. "Sorry." I muttered, even as my mouth was blocked.

"Sorry? That's all—sorry? Sakura, I thought you said you'd go today and fix the problem! And you didn't even bring Megumi to school, for crying out loud! Look at her…just look…." He bellowed in intense fury and somehow—or at least that was what I was able to observe—sadness and disappointment. As I followed his rhetorical order, I found my conscience being injured severely. It broke my heart into a million pieces.

Megumi. Poor Megumi. She was the weak victim of circumstance or rather, neglect. Her defenselessness is the product of my absence. To her, I hardly existed anymore. Sometimes, family relationships could only go so far as being interconnected by blood and genes, but perhaps nothing more. We were genuine examples.

"I'm…" I tried to provide an explanation, or at least an apology.

"I don't need any more of your explanations, Sakura!" Syaoran snapped intrusively, forcing me to widen my eyes in surprise. "Sure, I might be hanging around in this place so much that you've given me the title of 'househusband,' but what about you? You're almost a nobody to Megumi! A simple visit to her teacher—no, you couldn't do it! What do you think this does to our child, huh?"

He started huffing and puffing, and I lowered my head, hoping to avoid the pain of his gaze. "I told her…this morning…not to let bullies take her food…and she did just that….Thing is, they beat her up in return….Don't you see? And she was just _so _friendless…and no soul helped her, for Pete's sake!"

He motioned towards me and held my jaw tightly with his hand. It felt like I was at his mercy, and that I should beg or something of the sort. I had never witnessed this—this evil and seemingly unforgiving—side of Syaoran, to which I was soon to discover more. During that moment, he frightened me out of my wits. I hissed yet another sorry through my clenched teeth, hoping that he would finally decide to release me. It was abuse.

"Not even you….I can't believe it…." He applied an even stronger force. I mustered enough strength to dart my eyes across the whole room, concluding when they caught sight of Megumi. She was crying silently and was wiping her tears with the back of her stiff yet tender hand. I informed Syaoran by hissing her name, hoping that he would drop his guard and come to her aid, even if I was to be left alone feeling even more morose and dejected than I already was. Truth is, his words really hit me like a stone, and my conscience was starting to attack me way too much. I felt like drowning.

I was relieved to see him get the hint. He dropped his hand—with such force that I recoiled pretty much like a gun—and came to Megumi's rescue, who then wailed while telling her papa to stop. "Stop…please…papa…no…don't shout anymore…." The loud sound of her crying created a multitude of heartache.

"Yes, Megumi-chan, papa will stop." He consented without the slightest look or tone of hesitation.

At that moment, I could see his protectiveness with the most open of eyes. He was to a point of spoiling her—although, during that time, I was almost glad, for if not, it might have not yet seen the end of Syaoran's monstrosity. Perhaps it _was_ true that Megumi was weak and in need of care—but no, she didn't need to be spoiled with gifts and dolls. I hoped that it wasn't the case—she would be a papa's girl, then.

Still, I stood at the sidelines, caressing my painful jaw. I watched without uttering a word, the tenderness they shared prickling me like needles. She never mentioned "mama"—no, she didn't. That made me even sadder than what seemed to be my saddest state. She didn't seem to acknowledge me. Megumi didn't even bid me a goodbye when papa carried her to her bed to take a rest. No. No. No. The only hint of her knowing that I was actually in existence was the fact that she wanted her papa to stop...stop hurting me….

Tears slid down my cheeks when I was, at last, given the liberty of being alone with my emotions. But then, before he left to tuck Megumi in, Syaoran actually gave me one last glare as if saying that it wasn't over.

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**Years Later**

Indeed, it felt as if he was trying to let something sink deep into my conscience—even if it took years. He started to be less of a father and more of a working parent, although he still was, in fact, too lenient when it came to twelve-year-old Megumi, thus spoiling her. Megumi, in turn, didn't like me very much. That I knew. She complained about me being too strict, while she always found protection in her father to save her…every single time. It felt like the whole world was against me. Syaoran had gone too far in being too lax when it came to her. Now, she had become so very hard to satisfy, with less than fulfilling grades. Disgraceful as it may sound for a mother to say, she was more or less a wreck, a burden, and seemingly nothing more.

It was out of guilt that I decided to try and be closer with my ever rebellious, though frail, child—though we still seemed to be far as ever, separated by what appeared to be a see-through glass barrier—and actually drive her to school even if I was busy myself. Today was one such day.

I was becoming ever more concerned about my weak child, being the target of bullies and all. Her skin was approaching a very dull state—grayish peach, and not the lively peach we had expected. She looked so sorry and worthy of pity—even as I merely glanced at her sporadically with the use of my vehicle's rear-view mirror. I adjusted it to take a better look at her thin figure. Then, I decided to strike up a conversation—perhaps what one would call as small talk—even as I was preoccupied with driving her to her private school—a new school that I trusted would take great care of my child, as if her teacher would serve as her second mother...maybe even her first, as I was "always away."

"Hey, Meggie-chan, how's your first month in school? Your grades?" I began, hoping that what I would hear in return was something that spoke of cheer.

She scoffed before answering. "Typical," then came her short-lived reply. I saw her cross her arms in indignation, then move to an edge in the backseat so that I wouldn't be able to see her.

I took a deep breath and exhaled it the moment after, trying my utmost not to get temperamental at her rude replies. I attempted a smile. "Expound, Megumi. Your grades?"

"It's low. I hate Math and suck at it—not that _you _care." Yes, Megumi positively abhorred mathematical equations and other things that concerned too many numbers—and letters, if that concerned algebra. I could have sworn that I sensed her rolling her eyes, much to my annoyance. Still, I tried not to shout, but my voice might have sounded really pestered by this less than courteous reaction.

"The fact that I want to know about it—doesn't that show that I care?" I objected firmly.

"No, it doesn't." She countered. It was brief and crisp, reminding me of her father's ambiguous and short replies. I bit my lower lip and was starting to boil in anger due to her impolite attitude. She had better let this stop. She had better act more respectfully, like the way girls like her should act towards mothers! "You'd never understand, ma. Nobody _ever_ does. You were never picked at in school, were you, huh?"

It was then that I almost hit a pedestrian walking on the pedestrian crossing, missing by merely a few inches. The car screeched before reaching a rough halt. I tried not to scream at the passerby in irritation, eventhough he was wrong for crossing when the red man was lighting up. I could have sworn I heard Megumi mumble things about me…that child! I groaned and finally gave in to cursing under my breath. Taking care of a child was hard, really hard.

The rest of the drive, which wasn't very lengthy, was spent in pure silence. Neither of us could find anything to talk about—and if we did, it would usually result to short tempers. Maybe it would be fitting to say that we didn't have any chemistry. Well, the mere fact that we weren't born in the same period, and thus experienced different childhoods, meant that we really _did _have a hard time understanding each other. I always thought the youth of today was too preposterous, while Megumi would retort, saying that I was always stuck in the "Oldies Age." Haha! I vividly remember those jolly times—though spent in mockery—wherein she used to be a tad bit kinder to me, though, of course, her daddy always remained number one. It was already a basic part of the status quo.

Soon, we arrived in her new private school. It was humongous, with an appearance that shone like a beacon of model education. I smiled. She would probably become transformed into a better person in a school such as this. She only needed more time. I put my faith in that belief.

However, my reality started to strike back at me with such force, similar to the force that my growing Megumi applied when she shut the car door and scram to her newfound friends in school—without even saying a single word that would have served as bidding goodbye. It all came running back to me, how Megumi never really seemed to acknowledge my presence, and how we would inevitably drown in a certain haunting silence if I would never speak up. She would never ever be the one to make the first move in befriending me. Her cowardice—mind I call it—prevented her from doing so. She just simply didn't want to, or couldn't do so.

Deep inside, I see this sad person just trying to run away from all of her misery, like the preteen in a school uniform that quickly escaped my sight, satchel in hand. Marriage, indeed, always has its ups and downs, with the latter usually occurring more often in the Li type of setting.

Thinking about it, I can say that life is indeed so bittersweet. Nevertheless, the rest of my troubles, I tell you, are only yet to come.

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**A/N: **It was such a drag to write this! Nevertheless, I am _slightly _contented with the outcome. Also—and to my joy—this chapter was my longest! Yes (performs a dance)! I'll try my very best to keep my chapters at this length, although I can never promise.

Thank you to everyone who supported Family Portrait. I hope you guys support this one as well. Please send me a nice old review—critics are loved! I would really love to get feedback.

_Ivory Petals_

**PS: **The point of view in this story varies every chapter. In this case, I used Sakura's point of view. Therefore, there will be chapters dedicated to Syaoran, Megumi, Tomoyo, and all sorts of people! That way, the sentiments of each person will be captured in their own fresh perspective. I hope it does not bother you. Think of it as...uhmm...journal entries. Yeah, that's right. At least the point of view doesn't change several times in one chapter, right? Right!


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